In the Dark Hour Before Dawn
by Stargazer Nataku
Summary: Two different perspectives, Boromir's and Faramir's, of one event, Boromir's departure from Minas Tirith to seek Imladris.
1. Faramir's Perspective

Author's note:  These two stories, which are linked yet are also capable of standing alone, were the result of a fairly insistent plot bunny with big, sharp, pointy teeth.  The first story is from Faramir's perspective, and the second from Boromir's of the exact same event: the hour of time before Boromir leaves Minas Tirith to seek Rivendell.  If you have a moment, please read and review, as I'm not sure how well I've pulled this off.

Disclaimer:  I don't own them, although it would be nice.

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**_In the Dark Hour Before Dawn_**

**_By_**

**_Stargazer Nataku_**

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            In the dark hour before dawn, I watch my brother as he straps packs onto the back of his horse.  My heart is full of a deep sense of foreboding, a nameless fear that strikes to the very core of my soul as I watch him.  Yet I did not speak of it to him, for I know that my practical brother would scoff at what he has always called my "useless fancies" and tell me to keep my mind on the present, not imagined dreams of a future no one could predict.

            Yet I have always had the benefit of foresight, though Boromir always laughs at my dreams and chides me over them.  He was never cruel about it, as Father was, but always loving in his admonitions, and as I watch him I wonder what I shall do without his support.  My beloved brother will travel far, ere he comes home again, and it will be long before I see his face again, even if he escapes the doom I fear and returns to our people.

            I depend on him, perhaps more than anyone else knows; his strength, his valor, his serious and rational manner.  He is the warrior, the strength of our people.  All of our people see him this way.  But what I was I?  The second son, the scholar.  Father mocks me for it, telling me I should have been more like Boromir, and sometimes I yearn to be like my brother.  Yet I know that I can never be anything other than I am, no matter how hard I wish it, if only for my father's approval.

            Boromir has finished, and he pauses for a moment, hand stroking the warm place on his horse's neck underneath her mane.  He is silent, and so am I, waiting for him to speak.  After a moment, he gives a small sigh, and turns to me.  There is no fear in his eyes, only strength, though I can see that he is as grieved at this parting as I am.  "It is nearly dawn," he says.

            "So it is brother."  More for something to do than something that is needed, I reach out and adjust the saddle blanket.  Boromir watches me do it and says nothing for a moment.

            "Do not fear imagined evils," he finally says, and I meet his gaze.  So much like my brother, to know what I am thinking.  "It is a long road I ride, and a dangerous one, but have faith in me."

            "I do," I answer, "More faith than I have in anyone else in all of Middle-Earth."

            "And yet you are afraid."  I do not answer.  "What have you seen?" 

            "Nothing," I answer, and it is the truth.  I have seen nothing that should indicate to me that Boromir will never return.  But my heart…my heart cries out of a loss unimagined in my sight.  He sighs.  "Nothing," I say again, "except a riddle in a dream."

            "Indeed," I answer.  There is a pause, then he laughs suddenly, and reaches out to clasp my shoulder.  A warrior's salute.

            "It has always been you who chases dreams, Faramir," he says, "And I thought you a fool.  Yet with the dawn I ride out in search of dreams and legends, and hope against a darkness that is ever growing.  A fool's errand perhaps."

            "No," I answer, "I am sure it is not."  And I am.  But it does not make the ache in my heart less.  He smiles at me and embraces me, and we hold each other for but a brief instant before he pulls away.  Outside, I can see the sky is lightening, the stars fading.  He turns to take the bridle of his horse.  "It is time."  Together we walk the streets of the city, down to the Great Gate, and everywhere we go people wish my brother a safe and swift journey.  He replies to each one with kind words, though he never smiles, as we make our way downward.  

            When we reach the first circle, Father is there waiting for us, with only two of the Citadel guards standing there.  Even so, I feel that there are many eyes on us from above.  The Steward steps out, and he looks Boromir over appraisingly.  "Are you still set upon this fool's errand?" he demands.

            "I am, my Lord," Boromir answers.

            "Then I shall not try to dissuade you, my son."  Indeed, I think, as Denethor smiles at my brother, that he would never try to dissuade Boromir.  When I told him of the dream, he called me a fool.  Now Boromir embarks on the quest that I would have taken, to spare my brother the hardship.  After soft words between father and son that I cannot hear, Boromir turns to me. 

            "The hour is upon us," he says.

            "Indeed," I answer.  We are silent, merely looking at each other, and then he smiles and grasps my wrist in a warrior's salute.  The leather of his bracers is cold in my grasp, as I clasp his wrist in return.  

            "Farewell, brother.  I leave our city and our people in your care."

            "I shall do my best to protect them until you return to us," 

            "I know you will, else I would never depart."  He smiles.  "You are a great man, Faramir."  I notice he has said this loud enough so that our father must have heard him.  I smile sardonically.

            "It is you who are great, Boromir, greater than I shall ever be.  Protector of our people, seeker of legends."  He laughs.

            "Nay," he answers, "I leave our people at a time when the shadows grow ever longer and darkness threatens to consume all we love.  You will protect it, while I chase dreams."

            "To the same end that I stay," I answer, "We both do what we must for them."  He smiles at me and releases his grip on my wrist.

            "Indeed," he answers, and turns to take the bridle of his horse.  "Farewell, Faramir.  Care for our people, and yourself."

            "May the Valar be between you and harm in all the empty places you will walk," I say to him, "Farewell, beloved brother."  He smiles at me and mounts his horse as the Great Gates swing open before him.  He gives father and brother one last smile, and then turns away.  As he rides out, he gives a great blast of his horn, and the people of the city cheer him, their champion.

            I smile, though my heart is still heavy as Boromir disappears from view.  I can feel Denethor's eyes on me, and I turn and bow to him.  "I await your orders, my lord," I say softly.  But he does not speak to me, merely glares and turns to walk away. 

            I stand alone as the gate clangs shut, the echo of my brother's horn still ringing in my ears.


	2. Boromir's Perspective

**_In the Dark Hour Before Dawn, Second Perspective_**

**_By_**

**_Stargazer Nataku_**

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            In the dark hour before dawn, as I strap my packs onto the back of my horse, I feel my brother's eyes boring into me from behind, but I do not turn.  There will be time enough to say our goodbyes when I am prepared for departure.  The motions I make are familiar, rhythmical, as Lanthir stamps impatiently beside me.  She is ready to ride out this morn, at the coming of the dawn, more eager than I am.

            I do not wish to leave my city and my people, yet I would not allow Faramir to undertake this fool's errand.  I care for him too much to permit him to face the dangers of the road I have taken now upon myself; as the elder son of the Steward of Gondor, this is my burden.  His, I fear, will be a heavier burden even than the road I will ride, but I know he is equal to it.  He is a strong man, a great man, though he does not yet believe so; I can see his heart, not perhaps as he can read mine, for he has the gift of our father for seeing through people, but I know my brother.  I have stood by his side from the moment I first leaned over my mother's bed, looking at him for the first time only hours after he had come into the world.  And since then, he has looked up to me, esteeming me above any other in the city, and I have ever looked to him for support in the weighty duties with which our father has always entrusted me.

            I fasten the last strap, and then reach up to stroke the mare underneath her mane.  It is warm there, and soft, and it calms me and prepares me to turn to face my brother.  I know he is waiting for me to speak, deferring to me as he always does.  I sigh, wishing both he and my father could see the merits he has.  I firmly believe he is indeed a greater man than I, for he is wise.  I do not have that wisdom, the abilities he has with people.  I am a soldier, a warrior, and it is all I know.  I have never cared for learning or the old tales, save the ones that told of great battles and great heroes.  All this I think as I turn to face him.  There is something in his eyes, emotion that speaks of loss imagined and ominous thoughts even as I still stand beside him, still within his grasp.  "It is nearly dawn," I say to break the silence.

            "So it is, brother," he answers, and breaks my gaze to step forward to adjust the saddle blanket, though there is no need.  I watch him do so, saying nothing, wondering what I can say to take the trepidation from his eyes.

            "Do not fear imagined evils," I say to him, and he meets my gaze.  There is no surprise in his face that I have read what he was thinking, ere he said any word of his thoughts.  "It is a long road I ride, and a dangerous one, but have faith in me."

            "I do," he answers, "More faith than I have in anyone else in all of Middle-Earth."

            "And yet you are afraid."  He says nothing, and I press on.  "What have you seen?" 

            "Nothing," he answers, "Nothing," he repeats, "except a riddle in a dream."

            "Indeed," I answer.  I find myself laughing, and I smile at my brother, though there is no laughter in his eyes, and I reach out to clasp his shoulder firmly in my hand.

            "It has always been you who chases dreams, Faramir," I say, not unkindly, "And I thought you a fool.  Yet with the dawn I ride out in search of dreams and legends, and hope against a darkness that is ever growing.  A fool's errand perhaps."  But then I, Boromir of Gondor, heir to the Stewardship, have become a fool indeed.

            "No," he assures me, "I am sure it is not." I smile at him again, though I am unsure if he is right, and I embrace him for only a brief moment before I must pull away.  Outside, I can see the sky is lightening, the stars fading.  I turn to take the bridle of my horse.  "It is time."  I say.

            Together we walk the streets of the city, down to the Great Gate, and everywhere we go people who are in the streets at this early hour call out wishes for a swift and safe journey.  I reply to each with kind words and acknowledgement, though I no longer feel like smiling, as we make our way downward.  

            When we reach the first circle, our Father is there waiting for us, with only two of the Citadel guards standing there.  Even so, I feel that there are many eyes on us from above, watching this last moment between father and son.  The Steward steps out, his face grim and old as he looks over me.  "Are you still set upon this fool's errand?" he demands.

            "I am, my Lord," I answer.

            "Then I shall not try to dissuade you, my son."  He smiles at me, and I return the smile.  It is easy for me to love my father, as it is easy for him to love me.  Even so, as I catch Faramir's face out of the corner of my eye, I wish that our father could see my brother's merits as he can see mine.  But it is not so.  Since our mother's death, he can see all my merits and none of my faults, and all of Faramir's faults and none of his merits.  It pains me, for I love them both more than any others in the world, and to see the pain in Faramir's eyes when he glances at our father…it strikes me deeply.  My brother would never admit it to me, but I know he yearns for our father's approval more than anything else.  I saw how Denethor called his younger son a fool when he spoke of the dream that now sends me away, yet when I spoke of it, he agreed to allow Faramir to go.  He was dismayed, I think, when I took the quest upon myself, though he would never deny me anything that I desired within his power to give.  I step forward, bowing before the Steward, and we share soft words for our ears alone.  Then I step back, and turn to Faramir.  

            "The hour is upon us," I say quietly.

            "Indeed," Faramir answers.  We are silent, merely looking at each other, and then I smile and reach out to grasp his wrist, feeling his own grip strong on my own arm.

            "Farewell, brother.  I leave our city and our people in your care."

            "I shall do my best to protect them until you return to us," he answers.

            "I know you will, else I would never depart."  I smile, feeling the need to reassure him again before I depart, perhaps forever.  "You are a great man, Faramir."  I am sure to speak loud enough so our father will hear.  He smiles back at me, an almost sarcastic smile, though there is appreciation in his eyes.

            "It is you who are great, Boromir, greater than I shall ever be.  Protector of our people, seeker of legends."  I laugh.

            "Nay," I answer, "I leave our people at a time when the shadows grow ever longer and darkness threatens to consume all we love.  You will protect it, while I chase dreams."

            "To the same end that I stay," he tells me, "We both do what we must for them."  I smile at him and release my grip on his wrist.

            "Indeed," I answer, and then I turn to take Lanthir's bridle.  "Farewell, Faramir.  Care for our people, and yourself."

            "May the Valar be between you and harm in all the empty places you will walk," he says to me. "Farewell, beloved brother."  I smile at him one last time and then I turn and mount my horse as the Great Gates swing open before me.  Here is where my path begins.  I give father and brother one last smile, casting my glance around at my city, and for a moment as I turn away I cannot help but wonder how long it shall be ere I ride back through this gate again.  

            Yet I banish those thoughts as I start Lanthir moving, and I raise the Horn of Gondor to my lips, to blow a great blast, saying farewell to my city and my people as my horse heads north.  I can hear cheers behind me, but they are soon lost, and I never turn back to look at my city, shining like a pearl in the dawn.


End file.
